TRUE CONFESSIONS: I didn’t want grandkids
But, my grandkids saved me from myself
BY KAYE CURREN
After they’re born, everything changes.
I didn’t want grandkids born into the world we presently live in, with an unstable government, ISIS, shootings, bombings, bullying in schools, and compromised morality.
Plus, I didn’t think I liked kids anymore. Let’s face it, kids are not what they used to be. In my last teaching job, a class of kindergarteners, I heard language I had never dreamed of hearing – and I am not a sheltered adult. Maybe I was no longer cut out to enjoy children.
Could I handle being called Grams, Grandma, Grand-mère? How old would that make me feel?
I had grown impatient with my neighborhood kids making noises outside my window. Do they really need to emit high-pitched screams when they play?
Or maybe it was because I didn’t want to get any older. Could I handle being called Grams, Grandma, Grand-mère? How old would that make me feel? Would having grandkids lead to being called… a “senior citizen?”
While I pondered these obstacles to grandmotherhood, my granddaughter, Ellie, was born. That vulnerable, defenseless little being played with my unsuspecting heart. In an instant, I knew I could take down Goliath with a slingshot. I began to plot how to capture her enemies and put them in locked cells. I decided to start a daily prayer vigil against any and all dangers.
Every baby became a precious bundle, every child, God’s happiest creation.
Then little Sean came out of the womb, sobbing because he had lost his safe, quiet shelter from the storm – blinding hospital lights and nurses chattering on and on. (FaceTime and video are a blessing only some of the time.)
I was ready to disguise myself, break-in, and rescue him. My daughter, of course, would have been quite upset about that. She was having a wonderful time, playing mom for the first time. I settled for deleting all the first hour photos and videos and started with the one of him swaddled and sleeping peacefully.
Now every little girl is a precious flower.
Now every little boy is smart, sassy, and strong.
Thank God. My grandchildren rescued me from becoming a nasty, kid-hating old lady.
Kaye Curren has returned to writing after 30 years of raising two husbands, two children, two teenage stepchildren, three horses, umpteen dogs and cats, and several non-speaking parakeets. She used to write computer manuals but now writes humor, essays, and memoir. Her essays appear on LiteraryMama.com, humorwriters.org, DivorcedMoms.com, BeyondYourBlog.com, SheWrites.com, and SheKnows.com. Find her other musings on her website/blog at www.writethatthang.com